Paladin
by Xzyvoj
Summary: The begining look at a paladin's unknown life and the probable shaper of his life.


_As the heavy rain battered the covered-wagon and its unhappy passengers, the driver fought with the oxen team to stay on the road. What the hell, why does this always happen to me? Damn this storm. I knew I should have left a day earlier; I would have, too, if it wasn't for that lazy mule's arse of a mother-in-law. "We gotta wait for the trail to dry. You need to clean the wagon. Wash your face before you talk to me," nagged the driver, a man in his early thirties, in a hushed voice. He gave a side glance towards the forest on both sides of the path. Century old trees standing like sentries on edge of the not so well used path. A small shiver ran through his body, I never knew that this forest was so eerie at night with the rain. Huh, guess I never noticed that._

"Hey Dad, how you holdin' up," a slim figure of a boy jumped into the passenger seat of the wagon from underneath the cover.

"Just fine son, but I'd be doin' better if it weren't for this rain, and if I had a tall stout drink in my hand."

"No kiddin', I could go for one to."

The man gave his son a questioning look. "You're not even old enough to shave yet and you want a drink," he said as he ruffled his son's rain-soaked hair.

"Dad, stop it, I just turned eighteen yesterday why must you keep treating me like I'm a kid," he matted his disheveled hair back down.

"You'll understand someday when you have kids of-

Before he could finish, there was a loud _thud _and a rough jerk that almost sent both men toppling forward, then the wagon started to tip to one side, "What the hell was that?"

"I think we just hit something, Dad." Both men hopped down from the seat to examine the damage.

"Damn it, we broke an axel," said the older man, "Boy, go get the spare from the back."

"Yes sir," the boy replied as he began to run to the back of the wagon.

Then without warning, there came an earsplitting screech that assaulted the senses, even the pair of oxen jumped, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU DUMB ARSE OF SON-IN-LAW, ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US ALL KILLED?" With that a short old woman with gray, thinning hair poked her head out of the cover. She was one of the ugliest women he had ever seen. Where her face should have been was a wrinkly piece of skin that looked like an onion set out in the sun for too long; but what made her features truly breath-taking was the fact that she looked like a mixture of a cat and horse's face that had been run over, kicked, and left for the vultures.

"WE JUST GOT THE BABY TO SLEEP AND THEN YOU HAVE TO GO AND GET US STUCK, OR WHATEVER THE HELL YOU DID."

"Please, not now Helen."

"DON'T YOU, NOT NOW HELEN ME," she mocked as she hopped off the wagon into the mud. "LOOK AT ME NOW," she glared at the man,"THANKS FOR CATCHING ME YOU STUPID MULE'S ARSE."

"Helen we just broke an axel," he said shaking his head, "It's an easy fix, just go back inside the wagon."

"Hell, if Herbert was still here, he would have had this wagon fixed already, you're useless," Helen said at a lower, but still threatening volume.

"Right, if Herbert were still here the wagon would have sprouted wings and started to fly, and the rain wouldn't even think about touchin' this wagon." A baby's cry pieced through the rain.

With that Helen gave him a glare that could rip the bark off of a tree. Then she hopped back into the wagon, steam coming out of her ears.

The driver just put his hand on his face and rubbed his eyes. "Boy, did you get that axel yet?"

No reply.

"Boy," He inched towards the back of the wagon. "Charlie, do you hear me?"

As the driver reached the back of the wagon all he saw was mud and water. "Boy," his eyes searched frantically for any signs of his son.

"Sorry," replied a quiet almost unheard voice that sent shivers down his spine.

The driver turned around only to see nothing there. "Who's there, and what did you do with my son?"

"Looks like you are too slow," said the same voice, sending another shiver down the driver's spine.

The driver's hand went to his belt where his dagger should have been, but all he felt was an empty scabbard. _What the hell is going on? Where is my-, _his eyes widened as he felt something sharp on the back of his neck.

"What a way to die," said the mysterious voice, "Dying by one's own weapon. Tis, a shame isn't it?"

"All I want is my son back. I...I'll give gold, what few jewels we have. "The pressure on the back of his neck ceased.

"Turn around," commanded the voice.

All the man could do was comply; as he turned around he saw the familiar face of his son with a happy smile on his face. The driver visibly relaxed, "You got me son," he said with a chuckle, "I was seriously scared there for a second. Please promise me you won't do that again, son" The man gave an uneasy look around at the surrounding forest again. A light fog was beginning to wisp out of the ground and caress the bottom of the trees. "Not here at least."

Charlie laughed, "Sure thing Dad, but you have to admit I got you pretty good though."

"Yes you did." They both laughed, but the happy moment was broken by the sound of the earsplitting screech.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU BOYS DOING OUT THERE, PLAYING IN THE MUD," The same old lady graced them with her presence again when her face poked out of the back of the wagon, glaring at both men, "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO GET A MOVE ON?"

Helen was just about to assault them with more verbal comments when a soft, but large, hand was placed on her shoulder and a stern voice filled the air, "Mom, quit pesterin' 'em and stay inside. You know what the herbalist said about your condition; plus, you came in here and soaked everything 'cept the baby." A stout and unhappy woman waved away the flap with a swish of her arm revealing herself, Helen, an untidy wagon, and a makeshift baby cradle.

"Well, tell your sorry excuse of a husband to stop playing in the mud and fix the axel," accused Helen.

"Honey, will you stop arguing with Helen and please just fix the axel?"

"Yes, dear."

Thirty minutes later the wagon, and its passengers, were on the move again in the same uneventful fashion as before. Unfortunately the fog became much denser in the forest and meandered its way onto the path.

"So, Dad, what are you going to do when we get to Garvard," asked Charlie.

As driver made another uneasy glance around his surroundings, he replied, "I don't know son. I'm probably going to get some sleep because I swear I'm seeing things in the forest."

"What are you talking about, Dad; it's probably just the fog playing tricks on your old brain. I'm just ignoring it," said Charlie as he turned his head toward the forest.

"Well I know that I'm growing older by the second, but still. It's not just the shapes that are freakin' me out. Whenever I glance at them they seem to jump behind a tree, and they seem almost human like.

"I'm sure there is nothing to worry about, Dad."

The conversation ceased for another hour or so until the wagon had to stop. In the middle of the road was a fallen oak tree.

_What the hell_, thought the driver, _why is this always happening to me?_ "Damn!" cursed the man, "Can this night get any worse?"

Charlie answered in the same quiet voice as before, "It's about to get much worse for you, Dad."

Before the man could respond, he heard a _whoosh _and he felt a pain in the left side of his chest. He looked down and saw an arrow protruding from a dark, growing stain on his makeshift raincoat. He looked up at his son with a look of disbelief, and then fell to the side off of the wagon, into the mud.

*************

Inside the wagon, Helen sat pouting in the corner over her defeat. _I raised that woman well. She's the only one who can stand me, except for Herbert. _She sighed putting her head back onto the pill of dresses. Even though Helen was old, her ears were still very keen. She heard a _whoosh_ and sat straight up, her motherly sense was alerted. "Marguerite, grab Gabriel and hop out the back," she commanded in a whisper, "I want you to take him and run as fast as you can into the forest. Something bad just happened. Here," exclaimed Helen, and produced a short sword out of the pile of dresses, "this may come in handy."

"Thanks ma." Marguerite hugged her mother with tears in her eyes and flopped out of the back of the wagon as quietly as she could manage with the baby.

Pulling up her skirt, Helen took a deep breath, knowing not if this would be the last time she saw Marguerite or her grandson. "Well, you gotta do what you gotta do," she sighed. "WHY THE HELL HAVE WE STOPPED YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING? BAH! WHAT MANNERS YOU HAVE TO TREAT YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW WITH SUCH DISRESPECT!" She jumped out of the front of the cover onto the driver's seat. Coming towards the wagon were a score of young men armed with various weapons. _It is what it is. That boy is going to be great one day, both of them. _With that she jumped down into the mud and approached the armed men with nothing but her looks; reluctantly they all were shocked to see her features meld out of the shadows, making her features even more menacing. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO WITH MY SON-IN-LAW; I HAVE TO GIVE THAT GOOD-FOR-NOTHING A BEATING LIKE HE HAS NEVER FELT BEFORE!"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Helen; you never knew when to shut your trap." The mysterious voice was back.

Helen turned around and was surprised to see her eldest grandson, Charlie, standing with a malicious smile and an eerie calmness; behind him she could see a lump on the ground slowly covering with mud. "Charlie," she said in the quietest voice she had all evening, "why?"

"Oh, come on Helen," replied Charlie, "did you really believe I wouldn't have followed in Father's footsteps? He may have been weak and changed, but what can I say? It runs in the bloodline." He gave a little chuckle after his speech.

"YOU PATHETIC BOY!" screamed Helen.

"I AM NOT A BOY!" The calmness instantly melted away from Charlie's face as he raised his calloused hand. "NONE OF YOU CAN EVEN…" He was about to strike her when his hand lowered and the smile reappeared on his face. "None you can even see how much I have matured," he corrected in a calm voice. "Soon you will see," pointing at Helen and the lump. "Soon the whole world will see!"

Helen was about to let loose with such a barrage of insults, even a dwarf would be impressed. She felt a _thump_ on the back of her neck and she saw the ground slowly getting closer, then everything became black.

****************

Darkness crawled at the edges of his vision and all he felt was pain. _What…why…I'm going to die, and all because of him. I would have never thought that he would…follow in my footsteps. _All he felt was pain, pain unlike he ever experienced before. He could no longer feel the rain hitting him anymore and the voices slowly died away. The last voice he heard was from his mother-in law. _Damn it,_ he thought, "_Why did her voice have to be the last one I heard?_ His breathing was labored and every breath he took he gulped in a mixture of air and mud. _I can't believe it…but I am afraid to admit it…I'm proud of him. _He didn't feel it, but he slowly saw trees, then sky as he was rolled over onto his back.

"Well, well, well," said Charlie. He couldn't hear him speak but he could read Charlie's lips. _Ha!_ He thought, _my old trade does come in handy every once in a while._

"Looks like my old man isn't dead yet."

He saw figures slowly move to the edges of his vision, but could only make out a lone figure, which was standing directly behind Charlie. The large, bald man bore strange tattoos that the driver had only seen once before, and had piercings everywhere on his face. His sneering face made him a truly horrifying site.

"What do you think boys," laughed Charlie, "think we should let my _dad_ live?"

The driver saw the figures shuddering. _So they are laughing at me, eh? _The only one in his vision he could see not laughing was the pincushion. The pincushion kept his face in the sneer that went with his features a little too well.

"Ya, Boil, your right," Charlie nodded.

_Boil?_ He couldn't help but give a chuckle, even though it sent a flare of pain through him. Charlie gave a flick of his wrist and the figures left his vision, just as they had come. The pincushion continued to stare at him until the driver saw someone punch Pincushion in the arm. With a flash of motion, Pincushion had his massive paw around the figure's wrist and even through the fog of death heard a disgusting _Crack. _Then the shadow overtook him and he waned out of consciousness.


End file.
